


first time

by nightbirdrises



Series: Sinking 'verse [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'll warm me up in no time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	first time

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this segment: nothing new other than penetrative sex
> 
> You can read Sinking in chronological order using [this page](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/sinking), or you can read it in the order of events as I wrote them [here](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/tagged/v%3A+sinking/chrono).

**From: Kurt**  
You okay? You haven’t so much as looked at me all day and I’m getting the feeling that you’re still kind of pissed at me  
  
**From: Kurt**  
I get it if you are, I just thought we talked this shit out last weekend  
  
**To: Kurt**  
No! I have no more bad feelings about that, I swear. Besides, I still think you should be the one mad at me. I’ve just been thinking a lot today  
  
**To: Kurt**  
I think… I’m ready to do everything with you

 **To: Kurt**  
if you still want that  
  
**From: Kurt**  
B, I’ve wanted you from day one

 

As dumb as he knew he probably looked, Blaine couldn’t help but grin widely at his phone. A few texts later set up the evening: Blaine’s house (which would, coincidentally, be empty) and a movie that would never be watched. It was insanely cliché, but he couldn’t care less. Never had Blaine  _wanted_  so deeply that it almost scared him.

And he was scared. Not of having sex, necessarily (they had already talked about it at length), but of a complicated set of misgivings that had plagued him even since that first night at Scandals. Inexperience was certainly one of them, but what worried Blaine even more was his inexperience as it matched up to the other who-knows-how-many men Kurt had been with. He also worried that maybe, just maybe, this would be it.

He hated that he still had that part of him that wondered if Kurt was only in it for the sex, but as the dull drone of his final period wore on, he couldn’t help but wonder what more he had to offer. It wasn’t as though he had a job or a house or anything to his name, really, except for himself. And once he’d given himself… then what?

"Dude, wake up." Blaine started when someone prodded him in the shoulder as he stood at his locker. He looked and saw Puck standing there with a pleased expression.

"Don’t tell me you stole out of another vending machine," Blaine said warily.

"A little Jewish birdie told me that you’re doing the nasty tonight," Puck said in a stage whisper. Blaine’s eyes widened and he glanced around, hoping that no one had heard.

"How the hell would Jacob Ben Israel know that?" he hissed.

"He doesn’t, I just wanted to sound like I was part of a Jew spy crew or something." Blaine shook his head; he wasn’t in the mood. "Okay, seriously, what’s going on?"

"Nothing." He searched his locker before remembering that he had no homework for the weekend (for once) and shut it. "See you on Monday, Puck."

"That’s not a ‘nothing’ face, bro, that’s a ‘problem’ face." Blaine turned away and began walking down the hall; Puck followed. "So tell me what your problem is, ‘cause I don’t see how getting some is one."

"It’s really none of your business."

Puck shrugged. “Whatever.”

Blaine looked at Puck, who continued to walk with him down the hall and out into the parking lot. “Do you think he’ll still care?”

"Who, Kurt? Why not?"

"Well, I’m just… Blaine, right? It’s not like I can give him the world, just me."

"You’re going kind of crazy," Puck said matter-of-factly.

"I know I was the one to suggest this in the first place, but now I’m just scared that this is it, that he’ll be bored of me," Blaine mumbled, mostly to himself. "Is that stupid?"

"Yeah." Puck returned Blaine’s glare with a scoff. "Come on, do you really think he’d still be around  _now_  if he could get bored with you?”

"I don’t know."

"Just enjoy yourself," Puck said, clapping Blaine on the shoulder. "Don’t worry so much." With that he was gone, whistling as he headed nonchalantly towards a shivering pack of Cheerios.

Blaine, unconvinced, drove home and was relieved to see that his parents had already left for their short vacation in Columbus. To waste time before Kurt came over, he got on his laptop and tried to learn more signs. The endeavor was largely unsuccessful, though Blaine did smile as he discovered one sign in particular.

 _Someday I’ll use it_ , he thought.  _If all goes well._

He tried not to get his hopes up. Just as he was putting his laptop away, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

 **From: Kurt**  
condoms and lube?

  
**To: Kurt**  
Got em.

  
**From: Kurt**  
Thank God. I didn’t feel like making a detour in this shitty weather.

 

Blaine frowned and looked out his window; sure enough, snow had started to fall and the street had already been covered in an alarmingly thick layer of white.

 

 **To: Kurt**  
Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?

  
**From: Kurt**  
Go ahead. I’m at the door of an off-white house with a huge tree next to it and a light on in some room on the second floor. I may appear frozen and exasperated because whoever lives in this house must be as deaf as I am.

  
**From: Kurt**  
In other words, please open the fucking door.

 

It took Blaine a moment to understand, but as soon as he did, he raced down the stairs and into the entryway, where he quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open.

 **I’m sorry** , Blaine signed without thinking. Kurt’s eyes widened, his stony expression softening as he stepped past him. He pulled off his boots and straightened up again to look at Blaine.

 **It’s okay** , he returned, checking Blaine’s response to make sure he understood.  **I’m not mad**.

 **Good.**  Blaine grinned; he couldn’t help it. He loved that he could communicate with Kurt in this way, even if he was still very much a beginner. Sign language had turned out to be more of a challenge than he expected.

"You’re running out of phrases to sign, aren’t you?" Kurt teased when he didn’t continue. He leaned towards Blaine, who soon found himself backed into the wall. "I should teach you some myself."

Blaine agreed, but he was really starting to get anxious and could think of a few other things Kurt could teach him instead. Then Kurt’s hands found his waist and  _holy shit_. Blaine gasped, flinched involuntarily at the touch, which had been ice-cold and completely unexpected.

"Relax, B," Kurt hummed, though he replaced his hands in Blaine’s back pockets, where the cold wasn’t shocking so much as calming. "You’ll warm me up in no time."

Blaine took in a sharp breath as lips found his, insistent yet gentle. He still had his misgivings, but every passing second found them slipping away in the wake of Kurt’s company. A hint of cigarette smoke lingered, but he could taste more of Kurt than ever before; he smiled at the revelation, not caring that it broke the kiss as Kurt didn’t seem able to resist smiling back.

"So much for getting off to a smooth start," he mumbled. "It’s your fault for being so damn cute."

Opening his eyes to a fond eye-rolling from Kurt, Blaine darted forward to peck him on the lips before putting enough distance between them for him to mouth, “Upstairs?”

Kurt nodded. “Lead the way.”

They barely made it halfway up the steps before Blaine found himself crowded into another wall with Kurt’s thigh slotted between his and a hand twisting up his shirt against his chest. A vague thought that they might never reach his room passed through Blaine’s mind, followed by another thought that maybe he wouldn’t really care. But then Kurt was carrying him up the last few steps —  _since when has he been_ this _strong?_  — and Blaine had his legs wrapped tight around him.

Then they were tumbling onto Blaine’s bed and he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how they got there, but he didn’t have a care in the world except that he wasn’t kissing Kurt and he really should be. So he did.

"Hang on— Blaine." Kurt rolled off of him and waited until Blaine was focused to continue. "Are you sure you want this? I seriously can wait, if you need me to."

Blaine opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Instead, he shifted up along the bed and sat up so that he could sign a quick phrase, one that had been burned in his mind for about three months.

**I want you**

"Okay," Kurt said after a moment’s silence. "Fuck, okay." He sat up on his knees and reached to cup Blaine’s cheek, pulling him in for a hard, brief kiss. "One more thing."

"Anything," Blaine murmured; Kurt didn’t see his lips move, but it didn’t matter.

"In case you’re not feeling comfortable or something, uh—" Kurt glanced around the room as if looking for the right words. Blaine wondered if he was simply searching for the words he’d already said. "—and you need to get my attention, for whatever reason, just… tap my shoulder three times."

"You didn’t plan that, did you?" Blaine teased gently, making sure Kurt could read his words. Kurt ducked his head, momentarily (uncharacteristically, adorably) shy.

"I didn’t; I’ve never suggested it before, but you know you’re different," he said.

"How?"

Kurt turned up the corner of his mouth in a wry smile. “When it comes to you, I care.”

Blaine had nothing else to say, so he found Kurt’s lips again, found his tongue piercing and toyed lightly with it, drawing low sounds from Kurt that shot straight to his groin. Kurt straddled his hips and eased him down against the sheets. Taking the hem of Kurt’s sweatshirt in hand, Blaine gave him a questioning look. Kurt nodded; he unzipped the shirt and allowed Blaine to pull it off (with a little bit of help — it was an awkward angle). Next to go was Kurt’s shirt, then Blaine’s sweater, then Kurt started to nip and suck at the skin around Blaine’s collarbone, apparently unwilling to wait any longer.

Blaine found himself tracing Kurt’s tattoo along his back, a forked, blossom-tipped branch inked into skin pulled taut over muscle. A sharp twinge had Blaine arching his back and dropping his jaw; Kurt soothed the spot with his tongue and a kiss before dropping lower to a nipple.

"K-Kurt," Blaine gasped, hips seeking. He suddenly wanted to turn the tables — to taste Kurt,  _everywhere_ , and he had no idea how to get the point across. In the spirit of ‘actions speak louder than words,’ he flipped them over, Kurt’s surprised huff of breath ghosting over his skin.

"Blaine, wh—" Blaine cut him off with a hard kiss that grew softer, his hands tracing the contours of Kurt’s shoulders and arms, amazed at what was constantly hidden underneath the usual layers.

A thought flitted through his mind and Blaine grinned, impish, as he broke the kiss to drag his lips down Kurt’s neck, tasting warm skin underneath his tongue. He continued down Kurt’s chest and dipped his tongue into his navel, chin brushing the light dusting of hair as he glanced back up at Kurt, whose eyes had gone storm-dark and whose reddened lips were parted.

"Amazing," he hummed, leaving a kiss on the soft skin that disappeared beneath the waistband of Kurt’s jeans. He hesitated.

"Babe, what’s wrong?" Kurt asked, his chest still heaving as he watched Blaine, who started to feel kind of ridiculous for sitting, frozen, with his face inches from his boyfriend’s dick. He was ready. He  _wanted_. What could be wrong?

Blaine bit his lip and sat back on his knees, reaching for the board. He felt bad for ruining the momentum, but Kurt didn’t seem frustrated, just confused. Maybe even worried.

 _I’m nervous_ , he wrote. He’d thought about writing “I’m afraid I won’t be good enough for you to stay,” but that seemed a bit too heavy considering the current situation. Kurt smiled.

"I can take care of you, if you want," he said, almost demure in the way he dipped his head and blinked at Blaine, who swallowed, suddenly very warm. "You won’t have to do a thing."

"Okay." Kurt pried the board from his hands and tossed it to the ground with a dull thunk. Blaine stared dumbly at his silver earrings, at his diamond nose stud, at how they reflected the light. It took a moment for him to notice that Kurt was smirking at him.

"You’d look hot with your eyebrow pierced," he said. "Lay back down for me." Blaine did so, which returned them to their original position — except Kurt wasn’t straddling him, he was  _touching_  him, fingers dancing feather-light down his chest and at his waist. “I think it’s time for these to come off, hm?”

Blaine nodded, hyper-aware of the way the muscles in his abdomen jumped at every brush of Kurt’s fingertips. He watched those same fingers deftly pop open the button of his jeans and unzip them — then stop. Kurt quirked an eyebrow and grinned before leaning down to mouth Blaine’s cock through his briefs. Blaine’s hips stuttered as his mouth dropped open in surprise, and Kurt brought up a hand to steady him.

"I’ll need some help getting these off your ass," Kurt murmured, giving Blaine’s thigh a squeeze for good measure. "Up."

Blaine lifted his hips to let Kurt slide his jeans down, followed by his briefs, and he kicked them the rest of the way off. He gave Kurt a pointed look, trying not to think too much about the fact that he was lying naked in front of his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who really needed to get on his level like, now.

"What if I just… left these on?" Kurt asked, a playful glint in his eyes. Blaine glared at him and pulled him down for a kiss, nipping at Kurt’s lower lip as he (quite boldly, if he did say so himself) reached his free hand down to cup Kurt, rubbing slowly.

Kurt moaned, pulling back slightly with his lip still between Blaine’s teeth. Then they parted completely, Blaine’s hand stilling on Kurt as he looked innocently up at him.

"Okay, pretty boy," he said after a moment. "You win." It was Blaine’s turn to smirk, but it fell away to breathlessness when he realized that Kurt had forgone the idea of layers below the waist. He didn’t have time to stare — Kurt’s body draped over his, and it was as though every nerve ending below his skin fired at once, and kept firing, intoxicating and overwhelming his brain and sending pulses of heat straight to his cock.

Which was rubbing against Kurt’s, and  _fuck_  did that feel good. Distracted, it wasn’t until a dry finger circled his entrance that Blaine remembered tonight’s intent.

"Lube?" Kurt asked softly. Blaine blinked, pointed to his nightstand, and Kurt managed to reach it and a condom packet without leaving Blaine. Which was good. Blaine didn’t particularly want Kurt to leave him at the moment, or ever. "Just relax, B. Let me make you feel good."

It occurred to Blaine that this wasn’t at all how he expected Kurt to be. Blame the part of him that remains stubbornly stuck to other’s words, but he’d been half-imagining getting fucked into the mattress with strings of dirty words being whispered into his ear. He wouldn’t be opposed to that, but he can’t pretend that he hadn’t been worried about going too far too fast. This was a complete spin off of his expectations, Kurt being so, well, caring. Loving was the first word in Blaine’s mind, but he shook that off.

He gasped as Kurt worked the first finger in, slowly, gently.

"You’re fucking tight," he muttered, though he left a lingering kiss on the inside of Blaine’s thigh, which tensed. Kurt smiled against his skin. "Thought I told you to relax, pretty boy."

Blaine considered tossing back a sarcastic remark, deafness be damned, but then Kurt crooked his finger and his brain was sparks of light.

The stretch and burn as another finger was added, and yet another afterwards, it grounded Blaine. It wasn’t unbearable; neither was it exactly comfortable, but his previous worries were now trifles to each time Kurt managed to brush that spot inside. And Blaine had thought he knew everything about Kurt’s touch.

He couldn’t wait to learn more.

So when Kurt asked, “Ready?” he couldn’t keep the word “please” from slipping between his lips, no matter if Kurt could hear it or not. It never seemed to matter anymore, what he didn’t hear, because he didn’t hear anything. All that mattered was that Kurt observed, and listened, and felt. Touched.

Kurt rolled the condom on and pushed in, seemingly by mere centimeters, and at the same time kissed Blaine languidly — a welcome distraction from the suddenly much wider stretch.

"How do you feel?" Kurt asked once he’d bottomed out, propping himself up in order to see and read Blaine’s response.

"Really fucking full." Blaine scoffed and shook his head as Kurt chuckled. "I keep interrupting the moment, don’t I?"

"A little," Kurt conceded. "But it’s kind of endearing."

"I’m so glad I’m endearing with your dick in— oh, _fuck_.”

"You were saying?" Kurt asked sweetly, but he apparently wasn’t looking for an answer as he immediately ducked to mouth at Blaine’s neck, his hips thrusting (too) shallowly, (too) slowly. Blaine whined low in his throat; Kurt’s lips on him curled into a smile before he increased the pace, changed the angle, and hit that spot again. Blaine keened, felt the vibration of his voice against Kurt’s tongue on his neck and it was all too much, he knew he wouldn’t last.

Kurt’s hand found his and squeezed, their fingers interlacing. What Blaine didn’t expect was Kurt’s other hand snaking down between them and taking his cock loosely, stroking in time with his hips.

Everything happened all at once — Kurt twisted his grip just right and Blaine cried out as he came, colors painting patterns on the inside of his eyelids. He blinked through his subsequent haze to Kurt thrusting harder, his pace erratic as he neared his own orgasm. Blaine vaguely noticed the streaks of come on his chest and picked some up with his finger, watching Kurt’s eyes (pupils blown, miniature hurricanes) as he brought it to his lips and sucked it in.

He thought he heard Kurt breathe, “Fuck,” just before burying himself and dropping his mouth open. Blaine, already starting to get sensitive, felt the pulse of Kurt’s cock as he came.

It occurred to Blaine, not for the first time, that Kurt looks beautiful when he comes.

They lay there for a while, unmoving except for their slowing breaths. Kurt grunted and pulled out, kissing Blaine when he winced and rolling over to take off the condom and toss it into the small wire trash bin that sat in the corner of the room. Suddenly everything felt empty and open and it was a strange feeling.

"So," he hummed. Blaine held up a finger to stop him, leaning over Kurt’s body and the edge of the bed to reach the dry-erase board on the floor, somewhat crushing Kurt in the process. "Watch it, B."

 _Are you always like that?_  Blaine wrote, getting straight to the point before he had the chance to forget in the inevitable whispers and cuddling. Kurt frowned.

"Like what?"

_… sweet? caring? I don’t know what word to use._

"Well, didn’t I say I cared?" Blaine prodded his shoulder with the other end of the marker, prompting more. "I guess I just didn’t want your first time to be like mine. Before you ask — I didn’t know the guy, he was drunk, I was stupid and ended up too fucking sore to walk the next day."

_I’m sorry._

"Don’t worry about it. Just one incident in a long list of things I probably shouldn’t have done, but did."

 _I’m still sorry for bringing it up_ , Blaine added with an exaggerated frown that he hoped would make Kurt smile. It did. _Big-spoon me?_

"Hang on." Blaine almost protested when Kurt slid gracefully out of bed, and maybe stared a bit as he bent over to grab a box of tissues from a low shelf. Kurt returned and used a tissue to wipe each of them off before climbing back in next to Blaine and turning him over to spoon him. "By the way, not bad for a pretty boy," he teased, his tongue darting out to lick just below Blaine’s ear.

_I was enough?_

Kurt rubbed his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles, deep in thought. He disentangled his hand from Blaine’s for a moment to reach towards the board, erasing  _enough?_  and replacing it with a different word.

_I was perfect._

Blaine left the sentence there, facing the two of them, and wondered. He always wondered about Kurt, about every part of him, and then ended up wondering if he would ever  _stop_ wondering. He hoped not, because even if he was doomed to never be sure of Kurt, he could be sure of never losing that trace of mystery. With each revelation came a new thing to wonder about, and he loved it.

Even if he didn’t love being unsure of them.

Blaine felt Kurt’s breath on his skin and his legs intertwined with his and realized that Kurt was asleep. He wrote one more sentence before propping the board against the wall and sinking into dreams himself.

_Stay with me._


End file.
